


My Shirt

by illiterateandbi



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: But fluffy ending, F/M, Young!Scott, another work from 2017!!, idk the time frame, its gross, like before apocalypse??, sort of angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22171579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illiterateandbi/pseuds/illiterateandbi
Summary: You are out of clean clothes on laundry day so you decide to borrow someone's shirt, not knowing that shirt belongs to your crush.
Relationships: Scott Summers/Reader
Kudos: 29





	My Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written with three sentence starter prompts: "Is that my shirt?",  
> "Wait a second, are you jealous?" and  
> "You talk too much."

You had woken up late yet again. It seemed as though your alarm wasn't doing its job, leaving you scrambling to get to class on time. 

You brushed your teeth and did your makeup and hair, making sure that you didn't look like a total zombie. 

Normally, you wouldn't care if your hair was messy or your face makeup free, but considering the fact that your crush was in several of your classes, you tried your best to clean yourself up.

After you felt okay about your face and hair, you moved onto an outfit. Throwing on a pair of jeans, you opened the dresser drawer dedicated to shirts, only the find it completely empty.

Shit. Laundry day.

And so you stood in the middle of the room contemplating your options. You couldn't wear a dirty shirt because your roommate, Jean, had already taken them to the wash. You could always wear your pajama top, but you'd prefer not to be laughed at due to the cat pattern all over its neon green fabric.

You sighed and decided on the third and most desperate option: sneak into your best friend's room and steal one of his shirts.

You practically ran down the hall way in your neon pj top to make it to the boys dormitory hall. Finding Peter's room, you knocked and waited for the silver-haired boy to pop his head out. 

A minute later, he still hadn't answered. You assumed he was either at class or flirting with some female friends. (Knowing Peter, probably the latter.)

You hesitated. Peter never locked the door and neither did his roommate. You could just pop in, take a shirt and be in your way. Only problem was that his roommate also happened to be the boy you've had a crush on since he arrived at Xavier's; Scott Summers.

Even with your gut telling you it was a bad idea, you opened the door and closed it behind you.

Your eyes glanced over the room before landing on a pile of clothes sat on the bed. You sorted through them until you found a simple red t-shirt. 

The shirt itself didn't look like something that Peter would wear, but your mind was set on making it to class on time, so you changed into the large shirt and took off towards your first period.

...

Even with your best efforts to make it to class before the shrill ring of the bell, you ended up rushing in a minute late, causing the heads of you classmates and teacher alike to turn in your direction.

"Nice of you to join us Ms. Y/L/N." Professor McCoy joked as he gestured for you to take your seat.

A rosy blush blanketed your cheeks as you slid into your chair, all the while not noticing the curious glance a certain someone was shooting your way.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to push away the anxiety that came with your current situation. Mr. McCoy continued on with his lesson and you fell back into the flow.

Suddenly, you were interrupted by a brisk tap on your shoulder, causing you to glance at the boy behind you. Once you met Scott's stare through his glasses, you froze as you mind reeled with many unanswered questions.

"H-Hey Scott." 

Your voice was barely a murmur and you were surprised that he had picked it up through Hank's passionate genetics lesson.

"Hey Y/n." 

Your heart pounded in your temples. You scolded yourself for being left in such a feeble state just by talking to a boy.

'A very good looking boy.' Your conscience pinged in after your thoughts fizzled through.

"Um Y/n?" Scott laughed. You obviously were in your own world–which he would've found very adorable if his brain wasn't stuck on the question at hand. "Is that my shirt?"

Automatically, your head began to spin as your eyed the soft, burgundy shirt with an ample amount of consideration. You remembered not thinking it was Peter's, so it must be Scott's. Heat flooded your body as you shook with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry!" You looked up at the brunette, eyes wide. "I thought this was Pete's shirt. I wouldn't have taken it if I had known it was yours."

You thought that your words would have calmed him and reassured him that you meant nothing of the innocent stealing of his t-shirt, but his current facial expression told you otherwise.

He didn't know why your words hurt him. They stirred something in his stomach and caused a sour taste to form on his tongue. Maybe it was the way you had so blatantly admitted to wanting to wear Peter's clothes. Or maybe how you scorned the idea of ever wearing his.

At that very moment, in the back of science class, Scott Summers had realized just how much of an impact a certain girl had on his heart. Little did he know that his covetous emotions were only about to become more overbearing.

...

The rest of the period went by awkwardly. You had since turned away from the boy who's shirt you had stolen, but there was no way you were gonna be able to focus.

Should I give him the shirt back? Does he even want it back after I've worn it? Is he grossed out right now?

You tried to push away any questions that swarmed into your brain, but the heated gaze on your back only spurred them on further.

Can a hole open up under me right now?

The interruption of the bell caused a major sigh of relief to escape your lips. Finally you could sort out this accident and hopefully show Scott that you're not some creepy ass stalker with a passion for his burgundy shirt.

You gathered your supplies and turned to face the brunette boy sat behind you. Surprisingly, he hadn't moved a muscle since the bell chimed. He looked dazed, almost like he was under some spell.

"Uhm. Scott?" You waved a hand lightly in front of his face and smiled when he almost jumped out of his chair. 

"Sorry Y/n I uh..." He trailed off, smoothing back some hair that had fallen from its gelled posture upon his head. You hadn't ever seen the boy flustered, but you'd imagine this was it.

"I'm the one who should be apologizing." You giggled lightly, trying to keep the air less awkward. "I'll take this off and give it back to you by lunch. I really am sorry about this."

Scott's full attention was now on you as he tried to control his breathing. You felt so guilty about wearing his stupid shirt and he didn't know how to tell you that he preferred it on your petite frame to his own. 

"That's alright! Really. You can...have it." Scott smiled as his head buzzed with you wearing his shirt purposefully one day.

"No, no! You don't have to give up your shirt. I'll just wash it and give it back." You hoped that would help if he was grossed out by your body in his clothes. "Besides, Peter probably has a shirt for me to wear for now."

Scott's jaw clenched involuntarily at your words. Of course, he reminded himself, she'd much rather wear her crush's clothes. What were you thinking Summers?!

Still, Scott couldn't deny the bubbling of envy filling his chest. Why couldn't you like him? Why Peter. Ugh.

You noticed his stiff posture and locked jaw which caused your eyebrows to furrow in worry. "Are you alright Scott?" Was he really that mad about the shirt mixup?

You couldn't make out the full sentences that were coming out, but you heard mutterings of 'why do you wanna wear his shirt?' and 'I bet mine is better.'

A laugh erupted from your parted lips as you came to a brisk realization. "Wait a second, are you jealous?"

He blushed and turned his gaze to the ground. Great, he thought, now you'll think he's a fucking creep with a lame ass crush.

"It's okay! It's just...Why are you?" You questioned, voice leaving you towards the end.

"I thought that was pretty obvious." Scott muttered, still wishing to disappear. "I don't want you to wear Peter's shirt because I want you to wear my shirt."

He realized how childish his words sounded; like a toddler complaining about a stolen toy. Gosh he was pathetic around you.

"Oh! I just thought...I didn't think you'd want me in your clothes." You blushed, admitting the secret you'd been holding in.

"Believe me. I'd rather you wear my clothes than me, myself." Scott laughed and glanced up at your wide eyes. Oh shit.

"I mean-I don't think of you in my clothes or not in any clothes I just really think you look nice in that color and you can wear it if you like but I don't really care I mean like-hmph."

Scott's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he realized what was happening. You were kissing him. Your lips were on his own. He could've sworn that he heard angels.

You broke apart, breathing heavily from the lack of air and adrenaline. "Sorry, but you talk too much."

Scott grinned as the bell rang, signaling the next class had already began. He watched you walk out the door, waving behind you. All while wearing his shirt.


End file.
